


A Devil Still

by StrangeBlueGlow (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrangeBlueGlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Cold, Sammy?' The devil chuckles softly, finally stirring, shifting closer."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Devil Still

Sam Winchester is crying. Not sobbing with full on tight throat and running nose. Just crying, with tears running lightly down his cheeks in silence. 

He's thinks he's in his motel room, but Sam can't be sure. There's a faintly scratchy pillow against his cheek and a thin blanket draped over him, he remembers those from when he went to sleep, but there are thousands upon thousands of pillows and blankets in the world, and all he can see is darkness and the nondescript wall he's facing, too afraid of the weight next to him on the bed to move and look around to confirm he's still where he was before he closed his eyes.

Belatedly, Sam realizes he's not wearing any pants, but he doesn't feel like he's been touched at all yet and supposes he should be thankful for that, even though he doubts he will have that luxury for long.

The weight is still there on the bed next to him, but it hasn't moved, hasn't said anything, and Sam tries to stay still and go back to sleep, tries to avoid the inevitable.

He's almost successful until a cold draft sweeps past him, cutting through the thin blanket and making him shiver involuntarily. 

"Cold, Sammy?" The devil chuckles softly, finally stirring, shifting closer.

"Where are my pants?" Sam spits back, knowing there will be no salvation tonight and no sense in trying to ignore his bed mate anymore, voice tight.

Lucifer shrugs, or at least shifts enough that Sam can feel it, still not having dared to move to look at him. "Must've gotten warm and kicked them off before I got here..." the angel purrs, "if you're cold, there are ways to warm up..." He slips beneath the blanket and close to Sam, slotting together like pieces in a puzzle.

Sam tries to jerk away, but Lucifer's arms are already around him, and he's already too close to the edge of the mattress to move very far anyway. He can feel the rough denim of Lucifer's jeans and the cotton over-shirt and for the second time that night he thinks he should feel thankful for something that will be all too fleeting. 

Too strong arms pull him back away from the edge of the mattress, hands fisted in his thin t-shirt, and Sam swallows hard, waiting for the night to progress as he knows it will, but nothing happens, not yet. The tears stop, and even though he's on edge still, he closes his eyes and tries to relax.

Even here and now, where the devil beside him cannot possibly be real, Lucifer is cool to the touch, not warming Sam at all, and another draft sweeps in through where the warped wood of the window frame doesn't meet the sill as it should. The cold pulls another shiver from Sam, breaking his perfect stillness and silence and setting the devil off again.

"Still chilly, Sam?" 

Lucifer smirks when Sam shivers once more at the cold breath against his neck, even as he shakes his head. "I'm fine."

"What kind of bed mate would I be if I let you shiver like that?" Lucifer laughs quietly and then suddenly the comfort of Lucifer's clothes is gone, Sam suddenly feeling skin against skin as tears begin to well and fall once more.

Sam stays silent as Lucifer thumbs over his hip bone and shifts impossibly closer, sure that he can feel every inch of skin against his own.

"I'm trying to share body heat," The devil says, as if he's trying to innocently explain. "Is it working? Or should we add a little movement to it? Friction can generate a lot of heat..."

Before Sam can protest, he feels a slick finger pushing into him, slowly at first, then faster, a second soon joining it. He knows better than to fight it anymore. Fighting it makes it hurt. Staying still only makes him hate himself in the morning.

Lucifer presses soft kisses to Sam's neck as he presses in a third finger, calloused and rough but dripping with lubricant, allowing it to slide in easily. The fingers in Sam suddenly crook, brushing over just the right spot to pull a broken noise, something between a moan and a sob from his throat. It happens again and again until he earns a smirking kiss to his jaw and a satisfied chuckle from Lucifer. "That wasn't so bad, was it? Now are you gonna turn over and let me take you?"

Sam only curls up on himself, trying to steady his breathing and refusing to respond to Lucifer. He won't fight it, but he won't be a willing participant either. He's not that broken, not yet.

"Aw, you wanna spoon while we fuck? That's so romantic, Sammy..." Lucifer coos, pushing Sam's thighs up just a bit more and sliding into him with ease, even in the awkward position.

The stretch barely even burns, and Sam has to bite his lip to keep from making any noises as Lucifer begins rocking into him, slow and shallow, but just barely deeper with ever stroke, like they have all night to do this. Sam supposes they do.

A split tongue traces the shell of Sam's ear, making him shiver again and involuntarily rock back against the devil's cock. "Greedy, hmm...?" Lucifer whispers playfully, kissing Sam's neck again and picking up the pace of his thrusts.

Sam can't help it, but he's half hard, and he hopes Lucifer doesn't notice, but of course the devil does. The hand that was on his hip slides lower, and Lucifer makes a pleased noise as his fingers wrap around Sam's length and begin stroking it.

"You say you don't want it, but I know you do, Sam. You're just so confused. You don't even think I'm real. And maybe I'm not. But either way, I'm never going to let you go..." Lucifer says simply, thumbing over the head of Sam's cock and making him moan-sob once more.

The pace steadily quickens, Lucifer fucking him in earnest now, hand keeping time, and every thrust threatening to make Sam scream with pleasure and self-hate and match the pleased noises and murmurs of encouragement Lucifer keeps making, mouth against his ear.

It doesn't take long before Sam is lost, still refusing to cry out, but barely stifling it, biting his lip so hard it bleeds as he comes, bucking into Lucifer's hand and back against him, painting his stomach and the edge of his shirt with white.

Lucifer groans a moment later and Sam feels him come, cool and wet inside him as the devil finally stills his hips. Shame fills in where he feels empty as Lucifer pulls out, disappearing without another word and leaving Sam cold and alone, crying again.


End file.
